If Twitter bombs were decorated like WWII ordnance, there’s little doubt that #BelieveSurvivors would be scrawled on the one currently whistling toward Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh.

But all of us should be worried about the impact crater this one will leave on American culture.

In their reckless haste to destroy Kavanaugh, social justice warriors risk undercutting one of the most cherished foundations of American democracy: the presumption of innocence.

Well, for men anyway.

The trendy hashtag, and its rhetorical twin #BelieveWomen, have attracted a frenzied following of blue-checkmark-bearing celebs and outrage junkies. Some of them hurled it — among other insults and obscenities — at Sen. Ted Cruz, R-Texas, and his wife Heidi on Monday night while chasing them out of a DC restaurant for his support of Kavanaugh.

But #BelieveSurvivors is actually a misnomer. As it stands now, the demand is to believe alleged survivors, merely because they alleged something.

Applying the term “survivor” assumes that the claimant has actually survived something traumatic, and creates a slick bit of circular logic in which we’re asked to believe survivors because they are survivors, while also believing that they are survivors merely because they claim to be survivors.

Worse yet, the admonition to “believe survivors” neglects to mention that the alleged survivors in question are accusers as well, justifying the equally valid but less rhetorically-pleasing slogan “believe accusers."

Kavanaugh’s primary accuser, Dr. Christine Blasey Ford, might be a survivor of sexual assault, deserving of both justice and sympathy.

Or she could be a liar.

Or she could be misremembering.

Or she could merely be a tool in the hands of an opposition party looking to leverage #MeToo to their own political advantage again after seeing it work against Judge Roy Moore in the Alabama Senate race.

Now one can choose to believe her accusation or Kavanaugh’s denial, but it’s a testament to America’s descent into the bowels of political discord that so many people seem content to make that judgment before any evidence at all has been presented for either side.

The problem is that humans just aren’t universally trustworthy. None of us. Ever.

Exactly 100 percent of human beings are naturally selfish, cruel, fickle, dishonest, and unjust. And even those of us who strive to leave those parts of our nature behind must constantly guard our steps and strive to protect our integrity.

To trust any man — or woman — blindly is folly.

To turn that blind trust into a political stampede is worse.

The rationale thus far has been that false accusations of sexual abuse are statistically rare (2 percent to 10 percent), but there are at least three major problems with this presupposition.

First, the study typically cited for this claim studied one university for 10 years, engaging a total of 136 total cases. It’s a paltry sample size in a distinct environment that few statisticians would credibly apply to national averages.

Second, if you do scale up that number to accommodate national figures on sexual assault, 2 percent to 10 percent becomes a large number of innocent people who risk having their lives wrongfully destroyed by false accusations.

Third, percentages mean exactly nothing when it comes to guilt or innocence.

Profiling the aggregate of American men as sexual abusers makes as little sense as profiling minorities or immigrants as violent criminals. It’s unfair, unjust, and untrue, and yet increasingly common.

There’s tremendous danger in identifying masculinity as a defect, while at the same time peddling the virtue of believing alleged victims before any evidence has been presented.

As the parent of two young boys, I worry that my sons will grow up in a world where the guilt of a man is established before his defense, and his testimony is suspect merely because of his Y chromosome.

There’s a better way to address abuse allegations than lining up in our respective camps and supporting the public figure who most closely reflects our cultural or political tribe, but it comes with different hashtags: notions like #BelieveEvidence, or #PresumeInnocence, or even #DoubtAllHumans.

Unfortunately, in our societal rush to pass judgment on each new partisan controversy, we’re creating a new kind of social inquisition, one that elevates the individuality of the accuser while denying the individuality of the accused.

And it’s hard to see how either decency or democracy survive that descent.

Joel Kurtinitis of Des Moines is a homeschooler, conservative-libertarian writer and millennial political activist, who contributes regular columns to the Register. Follow Joel on Facebook at facebook.com/jkurtinitis or on Twitter @Joel_Kurtinitis.